


King of France

by montes-carpatus (Carpathyah)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Drabble, Extramarital Affairs, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpathyah/pseuds/montes-carpatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Miles Antony de Luna is forced to marry the Princess of France to keep peace with his home country. In a loveless marriage, he finds love in an English Count</p>
            </blockquote>





	King of France

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by: Ave
> 
> Based off the story of Marie Antoinette's affair with Count Fersen

Archduke Miles Antony de Luna, a title he only held for what felt like such a short time, became Dauphin Miles de Luna, an unfamiliar name to the French vocabulary. Marriage by politics was fated for him to gain peace in his home country, and by his father and mother’s will he asked the Duchess of Berry and the Dauphine of France to be his wife.

His home in Versailles was magnificent; he indulged a lot of time in the gardens and on his horse. Anything to be busy and away from his wife. He couldn’t blame the woman, she was kind towards him, only trying her best to win his heart to ease the pain they both didn’t want to admit to. He tried as well. He kissed her every morning before he left the castle to tend to his duties. He let her teach him French, trying to incorporate him better into French society.

Though, they both knew that it wasn’t working, and a loveless marriage it would stay.

“His Royal Highness, Miles Antony, I would like to present to you my good friend, Count James Ryan Haywood, he is visiting from London to attend the military school in the neighbouring town,” Miles was presented to the beautiful man in front of his in the most elegant militia attire he had ever seen.

“Enchanted,” he bowed. Miles tilted his head down in response. The ball was getting very long and tiring. He rather just be in his room, letting his wife read out loud until he fell asleep. Though, his curiosity got the best of him and he had spent most of the night with the count.

The count felt so honoured, and had asked if he could pass by again. The Prince smiled wide and told him: “You are always welcomed to come to my home.”

What became a few visits, it was obvious that they had grew very much fond of each other. Miles would sprint out of his quarters as fast as he could, wanting to see the count.

“My dear, where do you go in such a hurry?” his wife had asked at breakfast, seeing him tense and restless. He looked up at her. She was looking very plain that day, her hair in tight braids around her head and in a lifeless white gown. He swallowed his tea loudly.

“Pardon me, I have business with the militia this morning,” he rose and walked over to his wife. She wanted a kiss on the lips, he could tell by the taint of strawberries on her lips. She took a deep breath before leaving a chaste kiss. “Have a good morning.”

He tasted strawberries on his tongue at noon. Royal hands snaked through his hair, pushing his body against his against the golden engravings of his personal room. No one would come in without knocking; he took advantage of his powers.

“May I?” Count Haywood asked as his calloused fingers traced the buttons on his jacket.

“Surely,” he expired before taking his mouth in his against. The count was quick to open layers and leave marks on his skin that only he would see. Clothing piled on the floor beneath them.

When Dauphin of France turned into King of France, he felt like he had nothing left to lose in his battle against his people to keep his title. He indulged as much as he could in who was Count Haywood, who he had ordered to stay in France until otherwise. He could barely hide it anymore, the word was out that he couldn’t satisfy his wife, he couldn’t court a woman and instead betrayed the church and tasted hell itself.

“My, you’re so relaxed for a King with a country on the brisk of a revolution,” the count commented as King Miles sat half-haphazardly dressed upon his bed, smoking a pipe. The count crawled onto the bed, kissing the man’s bare stomach and resting in between his legs.

“I am no King, I am a disgrace, and I will let this country be ripped from my hands like they ripped me from mine, now, come, kiss your King for I may not be alive tomorrow,” King Miles pulled the count up from his blouse and kissed with a tobacco filled mouth. The Count chuckled in his lips.

The shouting became louder and louder. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. Rumours were countless towards him while he protected his wife.

“You are not my husband!” she cried one morning, tossing a tea cup at him that crashed against the wall behind him. He watched her cry, feeling no remorse in what he was doing. He had failed her first.

“Go, I cannot keep you here any longer,” he had told his lover. He kissed his lips again and again, trying to savour what he was sacrificing. “I have a coach waiting for you at the gates to go to Switzerland. I must break this affair and tend to my kingdom.”

The Count’s eyes widened and then relaxed. It was destined to not last and what was love was now gone. “I’ll write to you in secret until the day you die.” he promised. He stroked the Kings hands one last time before departing as quickly as he could. The King stayed in his chamber the rest of the day, asking for no one to ask for him.

While all his attention was put on politics, his family and making alliances during times of turmoil, he was charged with high treason. It was said that the King’s hair had turned white overnight after the charges. Sent to the guillotine, he left behind no children and a Queen without a King.


End file.
